


Entelechy

by Pilocene



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, I'm not even in the Marvel fandom anymore, Sad, This was written over a year ago and I still really like it but I'm never going to finish it :'), forever incomplete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilocene/pseuds/Pilocene
Summary: 'what if' is never a good start to a story, yet this entire tale is based solely upon one. It was a small chance, a flip of a coin, perhaps, that Loki ended up where he did. Many things could have - and by all rules of the universe - should have gone differently. The Allfather was originally the one to find him on Jotunheim. He lived out his life as an Asgardian; an Aesir prince none the wiser to his true heritage. Yet, what if, by some twist of fate, it was not Odin who found the Jotun? Rather, he's discovered by someone whose desire for a son outweighed his moral qualms.Even if that did mean keeping a secret from the royal family.During the final battle of the war on Jotunheim, Loki is found - not by the Allfather - but rather by a commoner; a peasant soldier.A name means nothing, yet everything, all at once.It is an Alternate Universe, With a few More Changes Than one Would Expect.~This is a forever unfinished fic. It was written well over a year ago, and while I'm no longer in the Marvel fandom, I'm still very proud of it, and wish to share it with you all. I hope you enjoy what there is! :)
Kudos: 2





	Entelechy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my forever unfinished fic. I don't remember much from the writing process but I took notes as I did so, so I shall post them here.
> 
> This is honestly a very self-indulgent passion project I have been working on for a long time and resolved not to post until it was completed. (That aged well)
> 
> There's a lot of quotes (paraphrased or not) from some of my favorites videogames and shows in here, and if you can spot them you're officially my beloved. 
> 
> Within this fic, I am going to fuck with your perception of who characters are, when they exist, and what they do. Be prepared for this.
> 
> https://norse-mythology.org/concepts/seidr/  
> ^a lovely site that provided me with some fantastic material on writing Norse magic.

***

_Bis Vincit, Qui Se Vincit In Victoria_

_He Who In Victory Defeats Himself, Is Twice Victorious._

***

The war was over. It spanned decades - took so long many forgot the reason for its origin. Yet they were triumphant. Many Jotnar were felled upon Aesir blades, but in the end, blue blood mixed with red and death cared not for the victor. Finnbar tired of war. He tired of watching his shield-brothers fall behind him while he still stood. Tired of the slaughter. He cared not for the Jotnar, but this - _this_ was horrific. Aesir soldiers stepped their way through piles of corpses, keeping sharp eyes out for any movement they may put an end to with a swift thrust of a golden spear. Seeing young Frost Giants no older than 300 years be led away in chains - destined for a life of slavery - left him feeling sick inside. 

Perhaps that sickness stemmed from Finnbar's longing for a child of his own. His wife was deemed infertile almost a decade ago. All of her children were stillborn. 

"Finnbar, thee be with Andórr on the collection of remains!" The Captain barked. "I shan't tolerate a single Aesir being left on this frozen disgrace of a realm!" 

Finnbar felt hollow. "Andórr," he spoke solemnly. "Take southern Utgard. I shall search east and retrieve those remaining in the Tro district."

Andórr nodded wordlessly. He was generally a sullen, quiet man, and often spoke little. Perhaps that was exacerbated later by the war, and before that, the murder of his first daughter Reykja when she had been visiting Vanaheim. 

Finnbar took a deep breath, ignoring the metallic stench of blood permeating the air and began his first steps over the Jotun bodies lining the streets. Everything was eerily quiet. There was no sound, other than that of the wind whistling through the hollow buildings around him. 

He spotted the iconic golden sheen of Asgardian armor. 

The body was relatively intact. Nothing was particularly outstanding if you ignored the spear of ice lodged in its chest. As Finnbar drew closer, he recognized the face of the soldier as Björn Jacobson; a close friend and comrade for many years. He sighed, lamenting the waste of life. He muttered a short prayer before dragging the corpse down the street to a relatively open portion of the road. 

He went to continue his search for more bodies when - only just - he heard it. It was barely audible, mistakable for perhaps just a voice on the wind in any other circumstance. Yet Finnbar had become quite accustomed to the sound of crying over the past few years. He _knew_ that sound and based on the pitch, he had no doubt that from whoever the distressed cry was coming from that they were _young_. He felt a brief stab of guilt work its way through his stomach. 

He turned his attention away from the task at hand and instead focused on the sound. It was faint but perhaps close. He began a search for the source of the wailing. The cries ceased occasionally but he was not deterred, pausing for a moment and waiting for the screaming to start up once more. _Patience._

It paid off.   
  
He held the babe close to his chest and wrapped its blue body in the forest green of his cape.

Some damning voice in the back of his head was spitting venomous, disdainful words. _Kill it. You know what it'll grow up to be. Monster, monster, **monster**. Killer of Björn._

The babe suddenly started wailing again, and Finnbar had no words to describe the insurmountable wave of pity which suddenly washed over him. "I apologize, young frostling," he spoke quietly. "Such a scene is too brutal for many Aesir men to witness - I cannot imagine the impression such savagery shall leave upon your taintless soul." He took a knee and shifted the young Jotun against his chest. "So small you are for a Jotun babe... One would not think you any different from an Asgardian if not due to the color of your skin."

"Finnbar!" someone called off ways away. "Finnbar, be thee here? Forget the bodies - a Jotnar force has regrouped south of Snjór and we have not the men to hold our current position! We shall be heading home!" A younger man came over the horizon; his face lit up when he spotted Finnbar. "Ah, there you... are you alright? You are holding yourself oddly."

Finnbar adjusted his arm, shifting in such a way that his cape fell further over the mercifully silent babe. "I am largely hale. While I was gathering our fallen, there was a stray Jotun - quite young and reckless - who thought it a desirable time to attack me. Fear not, he now joins his comrades as a corpse in the snow. He did manage to land a solid gash upon my arm."

The soldier moved closer. "Do thee need assistance?"

"Nay-! I shall survive. Yet I may pay a healer a visit before we depart."  
The soldier nodded. "That sounds agreeable. Come on, then, we must move - lest we get caught in a frozen Hel-storm." 

Finnbar followed quietly behind the soldier. He occasionally looked down at the bundle wrapped in his arms, attempting to make it seem as though he were surveying the ground beneath his feet instead. The babe looked content enough - a smart thing to keep still.

The damage from the battle to take Utgard could be seen all around. Bodies - many blue, fewer red - were scattered throughout the cobbled roads, with blood running in the gaps between stones.

Finnbar winced when he spotted the face of a Jotunari. "A waste of life, would you not agree?" 

The soldier seemed surprised by the question. "But of course. So many young Aesir men perished for the sake of pushing back monsters that had not threatened even our realm! To attack a world under the protection of Odin-Allfather is scornful, yes, but is defending Midgard truly worth the price of all the blood we've paid? I think not."

"Those are dangerous words you speak, to question the Allfather so."

"It does not truly matter, though, surely?" The soldier kicked one of the Jotun corpses to the side. "Did you hear? We've finally seized the Casket of Ancient Winters - something we should have done since the days of Borr!"

"Were we not at peace with Jotunheim during Borr's time?"

"We were. Look at what peace with beasts brought us."

Finnbar could see quite clearly what it had brought them: Death. Not just to the Aesir, but to all - and he would not stand for it. It was a sight that could never be forgotten.

The continuation of their journey passed in a grim silence. They soon returned to the Aesir encampment, which was in the middle of being packed up and moved with practiced efficiency. 

"I am going to see if Heilari is in to take a look at my arm before we depart." 

"Heilari? Yingvi's wife?"

"Indeed."

The soldier let out a bark of laughter. "If you find her, tell her I'll require her services another night! My shield-brother Druslan has heard good things from me."

"Her services?" 

"Have you not listened?" The soldier seemed genuinely amused. "She's been taking the war as an opportunity to throw herself at any strapping young lad she can. Not that I'll complain, of course." 

Finnbar felt a shiver of disgust run through him. "I see. Thank you for escorting me, I shall be seeing you."

"Indeed, I shall take my leave. I wish you fair health." 

The soldier parted. Finnbar moved to make his way through the rows of pitched up tents, in search of one in particular. It did not take long to find. He pushed his arm through the canvas opening, brushing the fabric behind him as he entered the shelter. It was quite the mess, with an assortment of different objects being haphazardly placed about with seemingly no intelligence. "Sir Yingvi? Sir Yingvi, be thee in?"

It took a moment, but soon an older man with a beard greyed from age emerged from another section of the tent. "Finnbar! It is good to see you!" Yingvi seemed embarrassed by the tent's state of disarray and unsubtly moved to clean up. "How is your father? And Elskaði? Ah - no no, let's not speak of that. What can I do for you?"

Finnbar shifted uneasily on his feet. He looked down at the child still held to his chest and prayed silently to the Norns above. He lifted one arm and slowly unwrapped his cape from the infant.

The sound of bottles and papers being shifted ceased. "Great Norns... is that a Jotun?"

"Aye, sir, a Jotun _bab_ e." 

"What in Hel's name did you bring that here for!"

"I intend to raise him, Sir Yingvi." 

Yingvi's expression immediately turned from horrified into incredulous. "A creature which looks like _that_? You'll be found out immediately and deemed a traitor to the throne." He huffed. "Lest you wish to keep it inside all its life."

"I do not intend to keep _him_ inside all his life," Finnbar said calmly. "That is why I am here. Your wife, she is well versed in magic - she could cast a glamor upon his skin-"

"Absolutely not! Asgard does not need a Jotun beast running around, masquerading as an Aesir. They are an inherently violent species - what do you intend to do when _it_ tries to kill you in your sleep?"

"Then in my sleep I shall die. I don't think it'll come to that, however."  
Yingvi stared blankly and sighed, running a hand through his greying hair. "Heilari will not tolerate this." 

Finnbar nodded. "Then it is best I ask her, yes?"

Yingvi's face turned sour and puckery. "She's the next chamber over. Do what you will but I'll have no part in it!"

"Much appreciation, Sir Yingvi. Truly." Finnbar paused with the flap of leather dividing the next room held over his head. "...I apologize for burdening you with my affairs. We shall speak later."

The strip of hide fell closed behind him with an audible _thwap_.   
"I heard everything," Heilari immediately spoke.

"That makes this easy, then," said Finnbar. He gestured to the Jotun, who was staring up at him with a happiness that could only stem from the greatest ignorance of woes. "You know why I am here."

Heilari nodded. "I do. He will be different."

"Yes, I know."

"Then you are cruel, willingly subjecting him to a life full of torment."   
Finnbar's voice became terse. "Consider me cruel if you will - I care not - I am far past the point of moral qualms. What would you have me do? Leave him to die upon Jotunheim?"

Heilari deftly avoided the question. "Why not adopt an Aesir babe? Norns know there is plenty of orphans after the war."

"You know exactly why!" Finnbar snapped. The babe pressed to his chest whined and he lowered his voice with a sigh. "Don't be foolish. You know how adoption is treated by Asgard. The poor boy would suffer less if the entirety of the Nine knew of his true origins." 

Heilari remained silent for a moment. She turned to look at the bundle held in Finnbar's arms before facing him again. "And what of your wife?" 

"She wishes for a child as much as I. What of her?"

"Few know of her infertility, this is true, but you have been away for over a decade. They will think her illoyal. There will be whispers of infidelity."

"Then so be it, we will-"

"What _we_ is there, Finnbar?" Heilari suddenly hissed. "I know you are the only one who has made a drastic - and impulsive decision which will affect the both of you! I have no idea where your newfound empathy towards the Jotnar has come from, but I sincerely doubt Elskaði shares your sentiments!"

"Silence - you shall startle him!" Finnbar spoke in a terse undertone. The babe remained undisturbed. "That is why I ask you to enchant his skin."

"By the Norns," Heilari whispered. "You intend to keep his origins a secret from your wife?

Finnbar nodded. "For a time, if I must."

"You've gone mad."

"Mayhaps. But I did not come here for council. I merely ask you to cast a glamour upon his skin and be done with it."

"You will go to your ruin," Heilari spoke sternly. 

"Then it will be me who will suffer, won't it. I hold you under no responsibility for both the bad and the good which will come from this venture, Heilari." Finnbar shifted the Jotun in his arms, now holding him out to the mage. "All I ask is that you provide me with the opportunity to pursue it." 

Heilari crossed her arms, staring warily at the bundle Finnbar held out to her. "It is borderline treason, what you ask me to do..." 

Finnbar nodded. "I know."

"And yet...?"

"And yet I hope both you and the Norns are gracious enough to bless me with the tender mercy of not having to find a magic-user whom I do not trust to see this task done." 

Heilari looked reluctant. She stood pensive for a moment, thinking before letting out a sigh filled heavy with acquiescence. "Fine." She took the babe from Finnbar's arms. "Only because you'll go to some foolhardy mage who will screw up the glamour should I not! Best he be only left with a trace of outside magic than a blanket of it." Heilari moved the child to an examination table, gently placing him onto his back with the utmost care; as if she were afraid of harming him - or perhaps more accurately - irrationally fearful of unleashing the hidden viciousness she knew to be found in all Jotnar lest she be careless. 

The babe stared up at her, piercing red gaze veiled with a deceiving innocence. She hesitated at the sight of it. 

A beat passed before she raised her hand, hovering it about two inches from the bright blue skin of the Jotun when she then began examining him with her magic. Soft tendrils of light began to move from her fingers, and they probed for about five seconds before she suddenly drew back. "How interesting..." Heilari muttered. She turned to Finnbar. "There is this energy - I felt it - running through his veins... a supplement in his blood."

Finnbar's eyebrows drew together. "Energy? Of what kind?" 

Heilari turned to look at the babe, who was now beginning to squirm after having been left in an uncomfortable position for so long. "It felt suspiciously like seidr," she finally whispered.

"Seidr?" Finnbar said. "How is that possible? The Jotnar possess magic, yes, but it is nowhere comparable to the seidr of an Aesir. Even ignoring how a man is not capable of such an ability..."

"Indeed. Only the Allfather may due to the Odinforce and his royal-" Heilari suddenly cut herself off. "By the three Norns." She suddenly moved, picking up the babe who startled with a short cry before hastily passing him back to Finnbar who almost dropped him in surprise. "You must get rid of him right now - right now!"

"Get rid of - by the Nine, Heilari! What madness has overcome you?"

"The only mad one here is you! A male Jotun capable of seidr - to think I almost - he must be of royal blood! That Jotun runt is the accursed son of King Laufey!" 

Finnbar froze. "We have no way of knowing that for certain," he spoke calmly. "Jotnar physiology is quite different from our own."

Heilari's expression turned further aghast. "I care not! I care not! That the possibility may even exist is far too high a risk to pay! A nameless Jotun I could tolerate concealing for your sake - but to knowingly hide one who would have motives for treason should he discover his origins? A Laufeyson! Inconceivable!"  
  
"I know I ask much of you-"

"You ask me treason-!" Heilari hissed, "and I shan't stand for it!"

Finnbar stood stiffly. "Very well. If there is no convincing you in a morally just manner, then I should be forced to tell Yingvi of your affairs should you not aid me."

Heilari's furry immediately sharpened to a heated simmer. Her eyes narrowed and her lips curled up into a borderline snarl. Her voice was cold. "How did you hear of those?" 

"Soldiers gossip," Finnbar spoke plainly. "You should know better than to  
lay with mouthy recruits who are eager to brag of the notches on their bedpost."

Heilari's expression turned stony. "So, you intend to tell Yingvi of my exploits should I not do as you ask."

"Yes," Finnbar agreed. "I suppose I do. Though know that had I not needed this knowledge as leverage against you, I had every intention to inform him. He is a dear friend of mine, and it hurts me to see you betray him so. I have little clue as to how he hasn't found you out yet considering the number of pompous soldiers who come through his doors every day."

"Yes, well," Heilari spoke sharply. "It only takes one traitor for the rest to fall, hm? Give me the frostling. I'll do it, you backstabbing _nithing_."  
Finnbar slowly passed the babe to Heilari, and as he did so, asked, "You don't intend to curse him in retribution against me, do you?"

Heilari placed the Jotun back upon the examination table he had been seized from. "Curses are strenuous and outside my skill set. Even if they weren't, an existence with you as a father is curse enough, and I pity this child for what he will be forced to endure."

Finnbar couldn't help but flinch at her words. They were barbs thrown at him with the intent to wound; to be cruel and shake his resolve, and they hit their mark with a piercing certainty. "Then for the benefit of us all may we never speak of this moment again. We shall be returning to Asgard soon - I request you get on with it. If you will."

Heilari did not respond. She turned away and looked down at the Jotun, who stared back at her for the second time that day with a curious gaze. "You may very well be the ruin of Asgard," she mumbled. "And yet, and yet..." She ran a finger slowly over the grooves which marred the face of all Jotun. Supposedly they were different for each house, and she dearly wished she had the ability to determine if that was true - if the child beneath her hand was truly the spawn of Laufey.

As she moved her palm, warmth slowly began to emanate from her fingers, cascading over the babe with a golden glow as pale features spread across before entirely replacing the saturated blue which now hid beneath it.   
  
Heilari nodded approvingly. She went to admire her work as she picked up the babe, who let out a small sound of confusion both at the sudden motion and the observation of his now unfamiliar hands. "What do you intend to name your new bastard son?"

"Loki," Finnbar immediately replied. "And he is no bastard. I will not tolerate you calling him as such."

Heilari ignored his latter words. "You came to that decision swiftly. Have you thought on this?"

Finnbar shook his head. "No. I cannot gather where the name came from. It just feels fated to be as such."  
  
A silence fell over them. The newly dubbed Loki remained untroubled, observing Heilari who looked down at him with an almost fond expression now that his true nature had been hidden. The glamour veiled her disdain, whether she realized that to be the truth or otherwise. "Jotun or not," Heilari spoke, "there is seidr within him. He will need a tutor if he is to control it."

Finnbar breathed out a bitter laugh. "Yes, I'm aware. And not nearly naive enough to believe you will volunteer yourself to do so."

"I will not," said Heilari. "The resentment I feel for you at this moment outweighs my desire for a student."

"Will that change?"

"Mayhaps. As it develops over the next half-century, we shall see."

The silence continued. Loki eventually began to squirm, and he was passed back to Finnbar with what was perhaps reluctance from the sorceress. Finnbar sighed quietly. "Your existence shall not be an easy one, Loki, my son. You shall face hardships unlike many others may, and I am not blind to that fact. I hope when you are grown you may forgive me for my selfishness - for willingly subjecting you to such trials despite my knowledge of their occurrence. I pray to the Norns upon this day more than I ever have in the entirety of my life, and I hope above all else that - with their blessing - you may live a happy and undisturbed life despite your differences; despite your quirks." He smiled. "Do not allow the tests ahead to chip away at you. Sharpen your experiences into something usable, something workable, which may make it easier to cut down further ordeals. I will deem myself a successful father if you find yourself able to push through the adversity ahead." He shifted. "Hence, may nothing remain, except for our regrets."

***

_Point Thine Finger At The coward. Coward!_

_And Declare Him So;_

_For All Shall Know His Shame._

***

  
_My dearest and most beloved wife Elskaði,_

_It fills me with the greatest warmth which banishes even the chill of Jotunheim to be writing to you - especially with such joyous news to tell: I shall be traveling homeward. The war has been cruel, and most certainly not only to I. Andórr hardly speaks now. He stares off beyond the horizon, scrutinizing it as though expecting a Jotun force to appear at any moment. I worry for him and thoroughly hope he will be okay returning home without Reykja there to greet him._  
  
_Yingvi asks of you and wishes to know if you are well. Heilari holds similar regard for your wellbeing. I have told them both all is fair. As an ultimate non sequitur, Heilari and I recently quarreled over affairs she wishes for me to hold a secret, so regrettably as a man of honor, I cannot tell you details in the specifics, but know she is not pleased with me at current. Perhaps we could invite her and Yingvi to a feast when all have returned? I'd truly loathe to maintain her animosity._  
  
_We shall be departing soon so I have little time to write and elaborate, but it may be much to your surprise that when you see me a child shall be accompanying me. I know you must be curious of his origins, but I promise you we shall speak on it later. It is a communication better left for an encounter face to face. Know that I both wish and send you my love._

_I shall see you soon,_  
_Finnbar_

***

_To Declare Failure Is A Failure Alone_  
_The Blunder, Itself;_  
_A Hideous Blot Upon A Man Of Honor._

***

  
"To say I am aghast would be the vastest understatement of the millennium."

Finnbar had returned home. It seemed his wife's elation at seeing him safe and unmarred was largely countered by a cool aloofness after laying eyes upon the Aesir babe in his arms. "Whose is he?" Elskaði immediately asked. 

"I did not sire him if that is what you inquire."

"It is not. I asked whose he is.

"Ours, now," Finnbar said.

"Finnbar," Elskaði sighed. "be truthful with me. I care not if he is yours or another's, but I must know from whence he came. You owe me that, at least, if you expect me to welcome him into our home." 

Finnbar hesitated. He had not anticipated telling Elskaði of Loki's origins so soon (though it's not as if he did not expect her to inquire of them) in fear she may reject him - or worse - alert the royal family if she were feeling particularly indulgent of her occasionally malicious nature. It was a risk, certainly, but she seemed to be tolerant enough of the idea of a bastard son, so perhaps- "He is from Joutnheim," he finally spoke. "Son of Astrid and Björn. During the Battle of Utgard, Björn was slain and Astrid was with his child. She did not wish to subject her son to the scorn he would have surely faced should he have been raised fatherless, and so - the babe was entrusted to me, to raise as our own - for she knew we were without children."

Elskaði paled. "Björn is dead?"

Finnbar nodded. "Aye, and Astrid is in the throes of her grief. She asks we not speak to her of her son, for he reminds her of her beloved lost." 

Elskaði spoke solemnly, "yes - yes that is understandable. We should visit - offer our condolences." She looked at Loki still held in Finnbar's arms; now wrapped in a proper bundle fitting for an infant. "And - And we shall keep her child, if that is what she truly wishes... Does he have a name?"

"Aye. Loki."

"Loki," Elskaði repeated. "Loki Finnbarson. Yes. Yes, that seems fitting." An oddly tense silence passed over the three. It seemed Loki was intuitive, for not a moment later he began to whine - a noise which soon escalated into full-on wails. 

Elskaði winced. "I shall see what resources for him may remain from our - previous expectancies. We shall also be forced to employ a nurse for I am not-"

"-Yes," Finnbar interjected. "I know. Feel no shame for it."

Elskaði gave him a small smile before excusing herself.

***

_Allow The Fools To Whisper Hearsay_

_For Their Words Matter Not;_

_The Rest Of Us Have Work To Do._

***

The nurse, in question, was a younger woman, (perhaps younger than Finnbar would have liked; especially considering Loki's delicate situation and the gossipy nature of most maidens) but they would make do.

The day she arrived they were unsure. Originally there was a doubtful hesitance in her actions, but they learned not long after that her uncertainty stemmed from a lack of experience, not willful neglect of duties. When she finally established herself, it took not a moment before she proved above and beyond her station. While originally she'd been employed purely for the sake of nourishing the young Loki, it soon became evident that she truly cared for the household she worked for and the people within it. 

Sigyn was more than their family could have ever asked for, which is why it was beyond disturbing when she ran into the common room (about a year into her employment now) frantically calling for them to see what had happened to their son. Finnbar closed the book he'd been reading and stood to follow her with what was perhaps more haste than was needed - especially considering the composed manner in which Elskaði did the same. He cared not; and when he entered the room of which held his boy, he was surprised and most distinctly concerned to see -

\- nothing. Loki was not there.

Taking note of his expression, Sigyn let out a small noise and pointed with no little hesitation to the ceiling. 

Upon it, sat Loki, who seemed unconcerned with the situation and in fact _giggled_ when Finnbar strained his neck to look up at him. 

"I-I have no idea what happened!" Sigyn stammered. "We had been reading and I went to go put the book away and I don't-"

" _Sigyn_ ," Elskaði broke in calmly; and Finnbar was exceedingly grateful to her for doing so. It seemed Sigyn was as well, for not a moment later she slumped over and practically collapsed into the arms of the other woman. 

"I-I'm sorry, madam," Sigyn mumbled into Elskaði's dress. "It's been a stressful day. My cousin went off to contain conflicts in Vanaheim today and just - I really need a hug." 

"I- yes - it is of no trouble. Thank you, Sigyn, please remove yourself from me. I would -"

The young nursemaid immediately stepped away. "Yes, yes of course. Thank you, madam." She wrung her hands. "Sir? What do you suggest we do? I've never seen anything of this kind in an Aesir child. Even the Vanir I've tutored, their magic - assuming, somehow, that's what this is - never developed this early. It's... Bizzare. Near unheard of." 

"Yes, it certainly is," Finnbar frowned. "Elskaði, if I lift you, should you be able to reach him? I'd like to take him to see Heilari and see what she has to say about the matter."

"Yes, it should be fine. Act with haste, shall you? Tis an embarrassment." 

Finnbar hoisted her up with little effort, and she wasted not a moment in reaching for Loki and pulling him from the ceiling with surprisingly little fuss. His direction of gravity seemed to have shifted as soon as he was in the hands of his mother, and with wife and child now safely returned to the ground, Finnbar let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Sigyn was much more visible in her relief. She sent a withering glare at Loki when he giggled.   
  
" _You,_ " she spoke scathingly. "Near sent me to an early grave, problem child. Please never do anything of that nature again I sincerely doubt I could deal with it."

Finnbar laughed. "Nor I. Thank you for helping us, Sigyn, tis very much appreciated. You've made raising him a far more painless experience than what it would have been without you."

Sigyn looked surprised. "Of course, sir. I care for you and your family dearly - particularly your little troublemaker here." She smiled. "I mean it most sincerely when I say how happy I am to be with you all, especially after losing my father in the war... It's nice to be here. Keeps my mind off things. My fiance says it's been good for me and I thank you for that. We couldn't afford to keep my own child, but it has been more than a blessing I could ever ask for to help raise yours."

Finnbar nodded wordlessly, but his face was that of a rarity; expressing something kindly and near fond. Sigyn understood the acknowledgment for what it was and allowed herself a quiet smile. 

"Pass me Loki, would you Elskaði?" he asked. "I am going to pay Heilari a visit and see if we can get this situation figured out. I'm sure she'll have something helpful to say in the matter."

~~~

  
"He has magic? _Already?_ "

Heilari, in an action not dissimilar to the moment in which she cast the glamour upon Loki a year ago, hovered her hand about an inch away from his pale skin as her seidr examined him. This time, however, when she pulled away, her expression was far more grim than inquisitive. 

Loki didn't seem to mind. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he continued smiling with the same grin he'd manage to keep on his face since scaring Sigyn so.

"Tis as much a surprise to I as it is you," Finnbar spoke. "Despite how humorously it was taken at the time it certainly gave my nursemaid one Hel of a fright. I thought you told me he'd not properly develop his seidr for the very _leas_ t another half-century?"

"It has not developed," Heilari glowered. "It's uncontained, and a danger to him and those he's around. You must have this spontaneous use of magic stopped. It shall otherwise influence his ability for learning spellcraft in the future."

Finnbar scowled. "There is little I can do. You know how limited my knowledge of magic is, and even then - what - you want me to chastise the infant who can barely _speak_ over his uncontrolled use of seidr? A fantastic idea, that is!" 

Heilari let out a sharp, irritated breath. She turned to one of the many shelves located within her study and scanned the spines of a row of tomes before she began to hook her finger over one - thick and dusty - before pulling it out and loudly slamming it to the table in front of Finnbar. "Educate yourself," she hissed. "I said I wished for no part in this and yet _still_ you continue to claw at me for solutions with your Jotun child. Well, I am not to deprive you of knowledge, but it shall not be from my mouth which it comes. I am heading off to visit Yingvi for dinner. Enjoy your study."

Heilari moved and opened the door to leave. 

"You're still with him, then?" Finnbar asked.

The sorceress froze. "Yes," she hissed. " _I am_."

The door slammed shut. 

Finnbar moved to sit down. He shifted Loki to his knee as he leaned over to gawk at the sheer size of the tome Heilari had left him with.

Loki giggled. 

"Oh, you find this funny, do you?"

"Ba!"

Finnbar smiled. "I'm glad at least one of us does. Ready to sit and attempt to understand some magical jargon with me? I do this because I love you."

"Ba!"

"Your vocabulary is truly stunning."

Finnbar flopped the book open, and from between the pages, a cloud of dust rose up and obscured the air as Loki scrunched up his nose and let out a surely fierce-sounding sneeze.

Finnbar laughed. "I know, this thing must be older than she is - and isn't that something of an achievement." He flipped to the index, taking a finger and following it down a few lines until he reached a chapter which seemed to be particularly relevant: _The Development of Seidr in the Races of the Nine; Physiology and Continued Stages_. He turned to the page and read the section head: _Introduction: The Source and History of a Mage's Magic From Realm to Race._ Such seemed to be as good a place to start as any. He began to read from the passage quietly alongside Loki, but it took not a few minutes before the infant looked up at him and quietly asked, "Say?"

"Say? Yes, I suppose I can do that." Finnbar cleared his throat. " _The Norns are the foremost masters of seidr, since they use weaving to establish the fate of all beings – surely an allusion to the techniques of seidr, given the highly magical task to which they put those techniques. Perhaps due to this connection, a practitioner of magic within primeval Vanir society was oftentimes called a norn._

" _To further categorize, within Asgard you had the archetype of *völva: a professional or semiprofessional practitioner of seidr. The völva was 'set apart' from her wider society, both in a positive and a negative sense – she was simultaneously exalted, sought-after, feared, and, in some instances, reviled._ "

The hours seemed to pass by with little regard for the true length of time. Finnbar's attention only snapped back when there was a timid knock at the door and he automatically called for entry as if he were studying in his own home. 

Sigyn warily peaked in through the threshold, but she soon smiled and fully entered the room when her eyes landed on them both. "Hello, sir. Find anything of use?"

Finnbar let out an irritated breath. "No, of course not! There's no damned information on-! _male_ Aesir with magic. Regrettable but not surprising. Tis just as well, I suppose. It is likely time for a break."

"Yes, that's actually why I'm here. You've been gone for near three hours, sir. Madam asked me to summon you for dinner."

Finnbar blinked. "Truly? No that cannot - well - I suppose it is so, then. Yes, thank you for fetching me, Sigyn. Will you take Loki? I have to finish cleaning up." 

"Oh, no sir, I insist you leave right away go to eat with madam. She is quite cross with you as of now. Take your son and I shall tidy?"

"If you insist it then I shall." Finnbar gave her a grateful look. "Come, then, Loki. Tis time for dinner."

"Foob!" the boy exclaimed. He walked forward on shaky legs to grab at his father's hand. 

The Aesir smiled. "Yes, foob. Stunning. Marvelous."

The door clicked shut. 

Sigyn smiled at the interaction. It was a precious thing she hoped to experience herself someday. Shaking the thought away, she walked toward the table which held the open tome and looked down upon it. _Development of the Jotnar and the Magics of Jotunheim: Section 8.9: Seidr of the Royals_. An interesting chapter to be perusing concerning an Aesir child. She paid it little mind further than that. He said there was no information on male Aesir with magic, perhaps he was simply comparing between races? A small voice in the back of her mind told her that was likely not the truth, and that he'd have no reason to go specifically looking for information on the seidr of _royal_ Jotnar, but it mattered not. 

She shelved the book and moved to the door. She opened it, and only once looked back to the shelf the tome was placed upon before shutting the door behind her. 

_It mattered not._

_~~~_

Reading on Jotun magic proved unsuccessful. There was a glaring bias in near all conducted research, so prominent oftentimes whatever writer was penning the study seemed to make no attempt at hiding it. Crass language unbefitting of an academic paper, of _beast_ and _monster_ , invalidated next to all answers which could be found in the text - especially considering how an entire section of a chapter was devoted to how Jotun magic was often structured just for violence due to their inherently bestial nature. It was not an entirely fruitless endeavor, however. Mentioned, very briefly in a section of a chapter he could not recall, there was allusion (largely concerning the Aesir, but not much could be done of that) of certain foods which could be combined in hopes of lowering the magical charge in fledgling mages. It was not particularly uncommon for beginner magic users of all types to have trouble controlling their seidr, and as such, some talented alchemists created all sorts of clever concoctions in hopes of resolving the issue. Finnbar dearly hoped they worked similarly on Jotun children as they did Aesir. 

"So," Elskaði spoke with a droll. "Did your _three hours_ of reading prove successful enough to justify dinner getting cold?"

"As a matter of fact, it did. Magical outbursts are not uncommon for mages with powerful seidr." Of course, he elected to omit the information that those mages happened to be _adolescents,_ but that wasn't of import at the moment. "Changes to his diet will supposedly help; more meats and the like when he can handle solids." 

"And what else? Learn anything of him being a _man?_ " 

Finnbar stilled his fork. "No. That I did not." 

"So, what? Your three hours spent in the company of _Heilar_ i was of no use?"

Finnbar frowned. "Are you implying something?" he carefully asked. 

Elskaði sniffed. "Perhaps I am. There have been rumors of promiscuous behavior on her part-"

"-And they are just that - rumors, Elskaði; it's best you not pay them more heeding than you already have."

"Yes, and of course you'd say that - of course you would!"

"If I, may, madam-" Sigyn entered the dining room with little more than the light tap of her shoes against the tile flooring. "While it is no business of mine, Mrs. Heilari was absent when I ran to fetch sir. He looked to have been sat there reading with Loki the whole time." She picked up a pitcher which had been placed at the center of the table and moved over to refill Elskaði's empty teacup. "I truly doubt you have much to worry of." 

Elskaði scowled and clearly looked displeased, but she seemed tempered enough to drop the line of questioning - even if she did stab harder at her food than what was necessary. 

When Sigyn went to go refill his cup as well, Finnbar pulled her gently aside. "Thank you for reassuring her, Sigyn; it's much appreciated when she won't believe a word which comes from my mouth. Though..." The Aesir grew quiet. "You know you need not serve us, yes? You are a nurse. Tis not what you are employed to do - and even then I truly doubt we could pay you something befitting of the position."

Sigyn frowned. "You need not pay me to service your family, sir, you have provided more than enough compensation through just your hospitality. So I ask this not in hopes of raising my salary, but I thought you well-established? What has happened?"

Finnbar huffed and his face pinched together. "They've slashed the payments to me for my service in Jotunheim, likely due to the current conflicts with Vanaheim. My shield-brother Andórr was recently forced to apprentice himself to a blacksmith in hopes of finding employment. An embarrassment at his age. I may soon find myself following in his footsteps." 

Such news was truly troubling. Sigyn stood and thought for a moment. She looked to Finnbar, and the lines of his expression were wrinkled with uncertainty. The financial situation was precarious for her as well. Despite how much she loved her job, if they were unable to pay her, she would have to find someplace elsewhere to work. At least until she was married and- "What about the _Crimson Hawks?_ " Sigyn suddenly spoke. "The Allfather's guard. My fiancé Theoric is currently enlisted within their ranks, and with your military standing, I have little doubt you'd be accepted. Surely it couldn't be worse than operating as a shoemaker?" 

Finnbar leaned back, and Sigyn could see the careful consideration he was taking her words with. "Yes," he said. "Perhaps that will not be so bad. I shall look into it. Thank you, Sigyn - once more." 

"Of course, sir." Sigyn curtsied with a smile as she was dismissed, and she made her way to the kitchen with the pitcher still in hand. Perhaps sir and Theoric would end up working together. Wouldn't that be something? 

***

Victorious woman, your name is a lie.

***

"How is your seidr today, Loki? Do you think there will be any overcharges we should be prepared for?" 

"No, it'll be fine."

"Do you need help tying the lacing on your tunic or do you believe you got it?" 

"I got it." Loki gripped the strings at the front of his shirt. One strand was crossed over the other and then rung through another, and as he moved to pull the bow tight, the loop suddenly unraveled and turned into a knot. His face pinched together in visible irritation at the result. 

"Here," Sigyn said. She kneeled down to Loki's height and placed her hands over his. " _Over, under, now pull it tight. Make a bow and lead it through, so that way you do it right._ Is that tight enough?"

Loki shrugged and pulled his hands away. 

Sigyn pouted. "Are you well, Loki? It's alright that you haven't gotten it quite yet, you know. Sometimes these things take longer for others to learn than some." Though, admittedly, it was something she'd spoken to sir and madam at length about. While Loki was a wickedly sharp and intelligent boy who would doubtlessly be a powerful mage someday, he had difficulty recalling how to do simple practical tasks. Despite him approaching his third century, he was still unable to tie together his tunic's lacing.

"I'm fine."

Sigyn's expression suddenly tightened in concern. "If something is bothering you I'd truly appreciate it if you told me. If not I then your father or mother at least-"

"No!" Loki cried out. "Please don't tell them. I don't want them to know."

Sigyn pressed her lips together. "Whatever is the matter? Loki, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on. I truly hate to see you upset." 

"It's just-" Loki hesitated. "They're going to hate me!"

The nurse blanked. "Who? Who is going to hate you?" Surely he couldn't mean sir and madam - they would never!

"The kids at the boarding school," Loki finally admitted. "I just know it. They're going to hate me."

_Ah_. "Now why do you think that?" Sigyn asked quietly. 

Loki looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "Why do you think? I'm _weird_ \- even you have to know that! I have magic I can't even control and I can already read and write but can't do something as simple as tying my tunic and - and why do I have to go to school to learn something I already know how to do? Why do I have to go somewhere no one is going to like me?" Loki's voice grew shaky as he continued speaking, and despite how much he may have tried to hide it from her, Sigyn saw how he turned away from her to wipe at his eyes with his sleeve. 

The sight shocked her. She had no idea these thoughts had been affecting Loki so, and the fact she'd been so blind to them until they presented themselves as near tears and hiccups was deeply distressing. She spoke calmly when she answered. "Now why do you judge them so?"

Loki sniffed. "What?" 

"You're so scared of all those kids hating you that you've already gone and made the decision for them. Don't you go judging them first if you don't want them to do the same, okay?" Sigyn leaned over and pulled the boy into a hug. "Don't worry, it'll be alright. You can go and make some friends outside of your book pages, how does that sound?"

"Awful!" Loki cried into her shirt.

Sigyn laughed. "It won't be so bad."

Loki's voice was watery. "Promise?"

Sigyn released Loki from her arms, and when he stepped back his eyes were still red-rimmed, but there no longer seemed to be that solemn shadow hanging over his features. "I promise," she finally spoke. 

"And if they hate me can I hate them back?" 

Sigyn let out a bark of laughter. "Ask your father." 

~~~

Loki sat alone. He responded present when his name was called, but beyond that, what was he to say? All the other students seemed already acquainted and had no problems conversing, so who was he to burden them with his presence? Unlike most of the other kids, Loki had what he deemed the unfortunate pleasure of starting out as a second year. Father had not wished for him to be around others while his magic was still so volatile, and thus they'd waited a handful of years until it could be restrained to enter him into a formal education: they couldn't afford a private tutor. He was luckily advanced enough to make the transition with little headache, but the unanticipated yet no less unpleasant drawback to that was his distinct lack of _knowing_ anyone. No one had a reason to talk to him if they already had friends.

Loki slouched further back into the corner where he'd chosen to sit - away from everyone else. He wanted to go home. This was so _stupid_. Everything is stupid. Why did father have to leave him here? He'd learn more at home, anyway! Half the children here didn't even know how to read!

"Hello."

Loki froze. 

"You look angry."

"I am," Loki responded hotly. "Leave me be."

The other boy staunchly shook his head and moved to _sit_ down next to him - not only to Loki's surprise but also his quickly growing irritation. He wished to wallow in his annoyance. Alone. 

"I will not," the boy spoke. "For I am angry too."

Loki scowled. "What have you to be angry about?"

"I could very well ask you the same thing."

"Wh- I did so first!"

"And I have decided not to tell you, so you may as well tell me your reasoning instead, yes?"

Loki hated him already. How bothersome. "My mother was murdered the other night and the culprit got away due to connections within the court. The lack of justice for her is infuriating."

The other boy blinked, and his expression immediately fell. "I'm sorry. Is that true?"

"It is. Leave me to my grief."

The boy suddenly frowned and crossed his arms, and Loki grew confused. "No it isn't, you just lied to me!"

Loki stilled. "And how could you know that?"

"My father serves with the Crimson Hawks and speaks often of the crimes he works to solve. He would have told me of a recent murder. You lie - to get rid of me-! and though cruel you are, I shall not be deterred!"

A handful of other children looked in their direction at the sudden, _loud_ declaration, and Loki felt himself flinch at their gazes. "Silence yourself!" he whispered with a hiss. "There's no need for such noisy statements; I find myself regrettably believing you." 

~~~

It turned out to be that Anthony Howardson was more persistent than Loki could've anticipated. Within the brief twenty minutes they spoke before the start of the day, Loki managed to learn just a little more about him: his father, Howard, served in Jotunheim and was originally a bladesmith; similar to his father, however, the conflicts with Vanaheim made income precarious, and he was forced to find a second job to subsidize. Anthony hypothesized the reason he was sent to a boarding school was that Howard wanted him out of the way. Loki, much to his own surprise, reassured him and hoped so himself that was surely false. By the time they finished speaking, he couldn't help but feel at least a little appreciative of the genuine effort made to connect with him. 

They had to separate when he was sent off to attend a _seidr understanding_ course.

Not only had an argument broken out between him and Father on whether or not to take the class in the first place, but the battle to get a man on the roster was so uphill it may near have been verticle. After over a month of back and forth with administration, a magical demonstration to the proprietor resolved the issue with acquiescence from both sides. It soon became clear that the course instructor had not been made aware of this. 

He attempted to walk into the room with a confident stride - as if he truly belonged there - but his step faltered when the eyes of dozens of young girls suddenly trained on him and _didn't look away._

The teacher immediately took notice. She turned up from her notes to see what they were all staring at, and when she saw Loki standing stiffly just outside the threshold of the doorway, she smiled and approached him; lowering herself down to his height. "Are you lost, little one? The boys are supposed to be at _sword basics_ right now. I can point you in their direction if you so wish?" 

Loki faltered. "I- um... No - no, I'm supposed to be here."

She laughed indulgently. "This is _seidr understanding_ , dear."

"Yes, I know..." He wrung his hands. "I'm here to practice magic." 

The teacher frowned slightly at his words. "Are you a noble? Where is your tutor?"

"I am not," Loki said. "My mother's a seamstress and my father was a soldier."

The teacher remained on her knees for a moment, staring at him with a critical gaze. She got back to her feet with a deliberate indifference.

The class looked upon the scene in total silence, which somehow made Loki feel worse than if they'd been whispering gossip of him between themselves. He knew they'd do so after he was gone. 

"It's suggested," she spoke slowly. "you turn your attention to blade work instead. The noble art of seidr has no place being practiced by a common _Vanir_ man. Go join Sir Vekkson. I shall not discuss this further - I have a class to teach."

Loki stood and shifted uneasily on his feet. A tense silence fell over the room, and he knew for certain everyone waiting for him to speak could hear his unsteady heartbeat thumping in his chest. How could they not? It was near deafening to him. 

"Of course," he said quietly. "I shall leave you be." He took a deep, shaky breath when he turned away, and as he left the room with a click of the door behind him, the silence out in the halls which followed felt more oppressive than anything the room full of people could have created. His breathing was trembly and stilted; followed suddenly by building pressure in the back of his throat, and before he knew it, he began to cry.

Loki stepped back and leaned against a wall, slowly sliding down to the floor with a broken sob.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there. The border from where the floor met the wall was digging into his back, yet he could hardly feel it. A cold feeling of numbness had overcome him, and it only felt more consuming and frigid as he focused on stemming his tears. 

"Loki?"

Something caught in his throat. "Leave me alone," he mumbled in a quiet, watery voice. What an embarrassment this was - crying in front of someone else. 

"Last time you told me to do that I elected to ignore you; that's not going to change now." Anthony went and slid down the wall next to Loki. He specifically avoiding looking directly at him - something of which the mage was grateful for. At least then he could pretend his tears remained unseen.

"Why are you here?" Loki tried to ask steadily. 

"Well," Anthony said. "I noticed you weren't at _sword_. At first, I thought you hated me so much you skipped to avoid me, which, I shall not lie - that thought hurt a little. But I figured that was harsh - even for you," he explained. "So I went and asked Vekkson where you were. He looked at his notes and didn't seem too happy with what he read, but he told me you were attending another course and not to worry on it. So naturally, I worried and went off to look for you."

Loki laughed quietly. "You left _sword_ to find me? Sir Vekkson shall be furious when he discovers what you've done."

"Oh, I'm sure. Yet I'm glad I did it. You seem as though..." Anthony tapered off. He became uncharacteristically quiet, and the silence persisted for a moment before he finally spoke up. "Is this the part where I ask why you're upset? Or why you're sitting outside the _seidr working_ room?"

Loki shifted, fully turning away from the other. "Ask away," he responded dully.

"Okay. Well, I feel as though these two things may be related, so I'll start by asking why you're outside _seidr working_."

Loki shied away further. "You shall despise me should I tell you." 

"I've stated before that I shall not be driven away - be it intentionally or otherwise - and I maintain that. Though," he said, "I can likely guess. You're Vanir, right? I know our two realms have not had the best relations, but-"

"-I'm not though!" Loki abruptly cried. "I'm not Vanir!" In a sudden motion, he finally turned to face his friend, and Anthony could now see his eyes; red-rimmed and frantic. "I am not Vanir, yet the teacher certainly made little effort to hide her disdain of me when she assumed as much! I had told her I was no noble, yet..." Loki's voice became a broken whisper. "I don't know what I am. I never have." 

The silence which followed felt overwhelming and loud, and as much as Loki desperately wished for Anthony to say something - anything - to fill it, it was clear based upon his carefully considering expression that he was taking the time to think out his words for once. "Well," he finally spoke. "If you're not Vanir, or a noble, them I don't think I have an answer for you, Loki. Perhaps I'm misplaced in saying this, but is it truly that important you know?" The Aesir grew quiet. "I've learned well that questions such as these tend to not have good answers."

Loki's temper suddenly flared. "That important? Anthony, I was just dismissed from a class because the teacher thought I was some Vanir peasant! The fact _I_ don't know - the fact she may perhaps be right is-!" he trailed off. "It's terrifying. Absolutely terrifying."

Just as he finished speaking, there was suddenly the sound of creaking, and the pair abruptly snapped around just in time to see the door slowly beginning to open. Loki froze. The door opened further, and from behind it stepped a young woman perhaps only a handful of decades older than himself. She scanned the hallway, and for a moment she looked distinctly unimpressed until her eyes landed on Loki with a smile. "Ah, good," she spoke. "You're still here." She stepped out of the threshold and allowed the door to shut behind her. She approached them but did not sit. 

Her gaze felt not dissimilar to how the teacher's had; cold with an edge of fake civility. Loki got to his feet - noting with somewhat petty satisfaction that he was taller than her. 

Anthony remained upon the floor, but he looked up at her with an equally steadfast and unimpressed glare.

"Well, good to know you didn't run too far with your tail between your legs," the woman spoke. "Though, I must ask; you're not really Vanir, are you?" The question was spoken more as a statement she wished to be confirmed, but Loki answered her nevertheless.

"I am, actually. It is quite rude for you to question otherwise."

She laughed. "Oh, yes, I suppose so. I shall leave it then. I need to say, though, surely you're aware of how rare it is for lesser Vanir to have seidr? Such things rarely leave the royal family."

Loki nodded. "I am," he said. "I've been much often called a rarity. Now who are you and why should I care of your thoughts?"

The woman blinked. "Do you truly not know? Ah - no, I don't suppose you'd have much reason to, being a commoner and all. Well:" She curtsied in what Loki could tell was a sneering mockery of proper etiquette. "I am Lorelei and simply that."

Anthony finally spoke up. "Should that mean something, or am I supposed to pretend to be amazed?"

Lorelei glanced at Anthony as if that were her first time noticing he was there. "Not to you, perhaps, Howardson." She pointed to Loki. "But to him, it certainly should." 

Anthony looked to Loki. "No," the mage said. "I can't say it does."

Lorelei looked truly aghast at this statement, and her expression pinched together in none too little irritation. "If that is the truth then you are more ignorant than I took you for. You perhaps know of my sister, then, Amora; closest student to be taught under the queen? Deemed the most charming and feared sorceress in all-"

"-Yes, yes - I know of Amora," Loki waved her off. "Though I can not say the same for you. Her fame must extend further than yours." 

Lorelei turned incensed. "You _dare!_ " she spoke hotly. Her tone was sharp, yet not two words into her fury she cut herself off. "Very well. Then I suppose you have no interest in my proposition for you?"

Loki smiled. "Likely not."

Anthony stifled a laugh. 

Lorelei glared down at him and looked far less amused, but it seemed she deemed herself above losing her temper any further and spoke in a tone that was nothing but calm and icy. "Not even if I say it could earn you the most respected position a student of seidr can maintain? 

Loki looked unimpressed. "I'd truly doubt your sincerity. Explain."

Lorelei's voice turned oily and charming. "You see, in the next three years, the queen is going to open applications once more to her apprenticeship. Every time she does so my sister secures the position, and I want you, to take it from her."

Loki let out an incredulous laugh. "I appreciate the faith, certainly, yet surely you witnessed the debacle which just happened in that room behind you? As much as I may so wish it, I am in no form qualified to outperform any apprentice of the queen."

Lorelei smiled thinly. "You claim that, but I think we both know that's not true. You are unique yet in what way, I can not yet tell. That foolish teacher was much too concerned by her confused ire against you to take notice, but _I_ did. I hold little doubt that with enough study you'd easily surpass her."

"Well," Loki said. "Then I suppose it is unfortunate for you that I have no desire to take a position in the palace by usurping your sister." His tone suddenly grew serious. "I hold much respect for Amora; to rise to her position is no easy feat, and you, in your petty jealously, have no right to try and take it from her."

The sorceress did not respond quickly, but it was clear she was deeply displeased. 

~~~

"Do you truly not intend to apply for the apprenticeship under the queen?"

"Oh, Norns no of course I do. I just refused to give her the satisfaction of thinking I'd do it on her behalf."

***

Let Myself Feel Nothing

***

**(Everything from this point on is a series of disconnected scenes which were supposed to be tied together as I continued writing. This, obviously, did not happen, but I believe they are fleshed out enough and not so far into the future as to where they don't make sense. There may be a few references to scenes not yet written, but that would be about all. I hope you enjoy it regardless.)**

It had all come to fold quite suddenly. Finnbar had been painting a portrait of Elskaði, thinking to himself mid-stroke that the folds of her dress didn't look quite right before Loki entered the room and boldly stated:

"I wish to apply for the apprenticeship under Queen Frigga."

His hand stilled. "Absolutely not," Finnbar immediately responded. 

Loki bristled. "Why not? I'm one of the most skilled mages in all of Asgard - none would be more qualified for the position than I."

"That is a dangerous sentiment you hold, Loki."

"What - faith in one's abilities?"

" _Pride_ ," Finnbar spoke calmly. "It cometh before the fall, as the mortals say. Hubris has been the bane of many."

Loki's expression shifted from irritated to amused, a gleam of mockery following in his eyes. "Yes, well, what do the mortals truly know? Mother says they are a young, impetuous race, hardly aware that it is the Sun that casts their shadows." 

" _Your mother_ ," Finnbar spoke, "Did not fight in a war with Jotunheim for over a decade in their defense. I have spoken to the mortals - I have been to Midgard. They are but fledglings as of now, this is true - but so are you, and that shall not be so for long." He sighed and finally put down his paintbrush, turning to Loki. "I wish you would not scorn those you have deemed lesser than yourself. It is a sentiment unbecoming of my son."  
  
Loki met his father's gaze with defiance. "I _apologize_. However, I'm still insistent: I wish to apply for the apprenticeship under Queen Frigga." 

"And I say this not for the sake of refusing you, but you can not."

"Whyever not? You have yet to give me a genuine answer! Instead - as it always seems to be-! you elect to ignore my question in favor of ridiculing it!"

Finnbar exhaled sharply. "Because you are an anomaly among Asgard; a man with seidr. Lofoten has grown used to your magic, but the ridicule you would face from the nobles-"

"I care not for scorn of the nobles!" Loki hissed. "I receive plenty of that living in the same homestead as you!"

The room went still.

_An existence with you as a father is curse enough._

"I'm sorry," Loki said quickly. "I did not truly mean that."

"And yet the words have been spoken and wounded me as you intended them."

"Father-"

"-We shall not speak on it further," Finnbar spoke with finality. "Please, occupy yourself with something else." 

A heavy silence fell. Loki turned his gaze to the floor and stood stiff as a board; unmoving and terse - waiting to be reprimanded with coiled posture. When Finnbar moved to clasp his shoulder, Loki flinched. Finnbar frowned at the reaction. It was not _he_ who had taught his son to fear him so. "I _am_ proud of you, Loki," he finally spoke. "If I have made it seem otherwise I am sincerely sorry. I could not be more pleased with how your skills - both magical and otherwise - have been bettered over the years. Please do not mistake my desire to keep you away from ridicule as scorn. I would never think of you as such. Do you understand me?" 

Loki nodded his head with a jerky motion. Finnbar was unable to see his son's eyes with his head turned down so, yet despite that, he was sure they were teary. He thought it best to save the boy some pride. "You may leave to your room. We shall speak on this after dinner, yes?" _After I've spoken to Elskaði._

Loki nodded once more. He spared not a moment after the dismissal in pulling open the study doors and slamming them behind him. His footsteps could be heard thumping rapidly up the stairs. 

Finnbar let out a breath and slumped back in his chair.

~~~

"He's being unreasonable!"

"I agree."

"I fail to understand why - _pardon_ \- repeat yourself?"

"I agree."

Loki faltered. "You agree with me?"

Heilari nodded. "Yes, I agree with you. It truly burns me so to see a talented student of magic such as yourself not have his potential realized."

Loki huffed and slumped back in his chair; put out. "That is what I keep attempting to explain to him, and yet... Queen Frigga is one of the most powerful magic-users in all the Nine - if I could learn under her then I could advance far more rapidly with her guidance!" He paused. "Not to say I don't value your-"

Heilari laughed. "Fear not, Loki, I take no offense to your comment. Though, in regards to your father - it's not as if he'd ever know, should you get accepted. We could easily claim you have studied with me before transporting you to the castle for your apprenticeship."

Loki's expression faltered. "Your offer is kind, but it would be unwise to disregard father so."

"Should he find out I shall claim responsibility," she said. "I do not wish for you to be fearful of this opportunity due to the potential for reprimand. As your teacher, I can firmly state your skills are far too vast to remain isolated in Lofoten." Heilari stood and walked over to her desk, reaching for a piece of parchment which she then passed to Loki. It shimmered faintly. "It is enchanted, so that only the author and I may read the words written upon it. I wish to give you time to think about your decision. Send your answer back to me when you have."

Loki looked down at the parchment held in his hands. An overjoyed grin split across his face as he wrapped his arms tightly around Heilari and pulled her into a hug. "Oh, thank you so much, Aunt Hel - this means more to me than you could imagine!"

Hel returned the hug and smiled. "I am sure. You are fated to do great things, Loki, even if the Norns' plans for you continue to change. Great things."

Loki was too elated to pay her words much heedance. 

~~~

"What is your name?"

"Loki Finnbarson, my Queen."

She was intrigued. "What brings you here, Loki Finnbarson?"

Loki tilted his head. "The same thing as everyone else, assumedly; I wish to apply for your apprenticeship, my Queen." 

When Frigga had seen him she had been quizzical, certainly. A male Asgardian capable of magic outside of the royal family was rare - unheard of, even - and yet one supposedly stood in front of her. The second thing she'd asked when he entered the training hall was:

"Are you Vanir?"

He hadn't seemed surprised by the question, for without hesitance he responded, "Not that I am aware of, my Queen."

There was something about him, indeed, that was almost inherently magical. she could feel it; shimmering around his person, and it left her in awe. Despite his anomalous nature, there was nearly nothing artificial about him. Nearly. Wrapped oh so subtly around him was a signature of magic unfamiliar. It was so intricately woven a lesser mage shan't of had a change in recognizing it. Without prompting, she also inquired: 

"Are you cursed?"

He seemed to believe she was once again referring to the fact he was a Seidr-worthy man, for he answered, "No, my Queen. According to father and my teacher, I have always been this way - capable of magic."

"Who taught you?" she asked. 

"Heilari Hættadottir."

The name, Frigga thought, sounded familiar - only vaguely. She could not recall where the familiarity stemmed from, yet there it was; nagging.

The decision of who she would take on as an apprentice had been made not nearly a moment after he'd walked through those doors. It mattered not what his current abilities may be, (though she assumed them great) for, already, even from the distance she may sit, she could feel the potential energy within him - and she had full intent to realize it.

Amora would be displeased, certainly; for she'd practically promised the young enchantress the position, but to scorn an opportunity such as this so-? The Fates would surely be incensed. 

"Shall I show you?" Loki finally asked. 

Yes, a demonstration - she'd forgotten about that. "Of course," Frigga said. "As you may."

Loki wasted no time after the prompting. Unlike many of the mages who came before him, he skipped the outward, showy guise of concentration to perform a spell and simply - did it.

Many users of magic (especially within the court) tended to act far more dramatic with spell-casting than need be. They'd make it a spectacle - with deep breaths and pressed hands presenting an illusion of immense focus and strain. To keep up such a show in front of another mage is not only embarrassing for the performer but near condescending to the magically-inclined observer who can see through the facade. Yet, despite that, many of her students continued to do such unneeded spectacles - likely a habit developed after years of dazzling nobles. 

To see Loki perform unaccompanied by showmanship, but simple pride in his abilities, was a welcome change of pace.

Loki suddenly had two perfect replicas of himself standing at each shoulder. If it hadn't been for the faint, foreign magic which covered the original, she'd of truly had no way to tell which Loki was genuine or a simulacrum. The spell was very nearly perfect. 

_Very nearly_ \- and would have been if not for that single strand of magic she was growing more convinced that he himself was unaware of.

Such a phenomenon was certainly worth investigating at a later date.

"Well," Loki spoke with a grin. "Can you tell which is I?"

Frigga smiled. "I cannot." 

Loki's confidence seemed to grow with her words, for not a moment later a dagger appeared in the hand of the first double, and Loki looked adequately surprised as it sprinted towards him and leaped forward with the weapon's point at head. 

Loki stepped back to avoid the thrust, but he was immediately tripped up by the second double who had begun moving as well - weaponless - yet no less an opponent, so it seemed. 

He moved away from the clones to regain his footing. They stood their ground as opposed to pursuing an offensive, which left Loki amidst the opportunity to summon a dagger in his own hand. With a flick of his wrist, the dagger sailed through the air towards the first clone - which easily deflected the knife with his own blade. Yet the wasted motion easily provided Loki with the opportunity to follow up with a second attack; kicking in the double's knee before forcefully pushing it to the floor with a reverberating thump of bone upon granite tile echoing about the room. 

Frigga watched the battle with experienced eyes and yet they were still amazed. The fight was choreographed, that she knew, but it did not look as such. She could not tell if the clones were physical or visual copies, and that fact was stunning in of itself. Though, the sound she'd heard when the first clone hit the ground - surely that hadn't been replicated through magic? 

Before long the second copy met the floor in an equally brutal fashion as the first, and as the fight ended, Loki bowed theatrically while the clones fizzled away. With a grin on her face, Frigga couldn't help but indulge him. She stood and clapped with equal dramatics, declaring, "Bravo! Truly; bravo!" Perhaps she was occasionally okay with spectacles. 

"I simply must ask," Frigga said, returning to her seat. "Were those copies physical or visual? I am truly astounded by my inability to tell."

Loki looked elated by the question. "The answer to your inquiry - perhaps unexpectedly - is both."

Frigga balked. " _Truly_?"

"Truly."

"How have you learned such a technique so young?"

Loki shrugged. "My teacher specializes in illusions. She was determined to teach me them." He chuckled. "The day I first mastered being able to duplicate my personage, I had fooled my father into believing I had lost control of my magic with a performance not unlike the one you just witnessed. He was not quite as amused as you by the end."

Frigga smiled. "No, I don't imagine I would be either if I discovered - Norn's forbid - _Thor_ did something like that."

Loki tilted his head. "Is the prince magically inclined?"

The queen shook her head. "Regrettably not. Though, most certainly more due to a lack of interest as opposed to a lack of ability." She suddenly turned more serious, and Loki could evidently tell based on the immediate straightening of his posture. "Loki, you are by far the most qualified applicant I've had all day to become my apprentice, however, before I offer you the position I'm obligated to ask you truly and honestly if you know what you're getting yourself into. I'm sure you're aware of this, but a male Asgardian capable of wielding Seidr outside the royal family is virtually unheard of" -entirely, actually- "and there will doubtlessly be whispers among the nobility of you. Most, I'm sure, less than fond." 

Loki huffed out a laugh. "Yes, father warned me of the same thing."

"Yet he still allowed you to come?"

The young Aesir shifted on his feet, and she saw the moment in where the thought to lie briefly surfaced. "Er, no. Not precisely."

Frigga frowned. "Not precisely?"

Loki looked away. "He is not entirely aware that I am here. While he does not _disapprove_ of my pursuit of magic, he is less fond surrounding the idea of making my abilities public - be it to save his pride or my own." He paused. "It was my teacher who brought me here today. She believes staying in Lofoten would be a waste of my abilities."

Frigga nodded. "Yes, and I'm certainly inclined to agree with her on that fact." She closed her eyes and let out a sigh. "However, I cannot, in good faith, appoint you as my apprentice without the approval of your father - or mother at the very least. It would do you and I both ill to have you sneaking off day after day to pursue my tutelage." 

Loki's expression flickered. "He shall never allow it - nor will _she_."

"You are a smart young man, Loki Finnbarson. I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out." The queen smiled. "Until then, I will give you a score of days to return to me before I make my decision on an apprentice public. Please do so with your father's approval - I'll not have you punished if your pursuit of knowledge were discovered."

She could see the indecision on his face, yet with no further protest, he finally nodded. "Of course, my queen."

  
~~~

Unwanted Advice Is A Plea

~~~

  
"I must apologize for something, father."

Finnbar swung his sword at the wooden dummy which stood firmly in front of him. The blade embedded itself deeply in its shoulder, and it took a few yanks before he managed to pull it free. "I hope it is for how you spoke to me the other day." Another swing. 

Loki winced. "Yes, that as well."

Finnbar paused. That wasn't what he had expected to hear. "Then what else have you to speak for?"

Loki wrung his hands. "I visited Queen Frigga against your wishes." 

Finnbar froze. There was a moment - just _barely_ noticeable - where pure horror passed over his face before it was viciously shoved down. "No, no - no-no-no," he tossed his sword to the ground with a _thump_. "You must not return to her." 

"I - she believes I am a powerful mage and wishes to take me on as an apprentice. I know you fear for my reputation, but-"

"No - no not just - if only it were so simple as a matter of pride. Loki, I truly fear for your safety should you continue to visit the palace. I cannot bear to imagine what may happen to you."

"What?" Loki blinked, and there was an edge of uncertainty in his voice. This was not the reaction he had anticipated. He'd been envisioning a harsh reprimand, perhaps, but not... "Whatever do you mean?"

Finnbar turned away and took a deep breath. His arms were crossed. He seemed tense; oddly pensive. 

"Father? What do you speak of...? Why would you fear for me?"

"I don't know if I can..." Finnbar trailed off. He suddenly let out an angry breath. "Damned Heilari."

"Heilari?" Loki was confused. How could father know Heilari had been the one to take him to see the queen? "Aunt Hel isn't responsible for any of this. I - I am the one who asked her to bring me to the palace. She thought it a foolish idea."

"Will she speak the same lie if I ask her? Tis best you keep your story straight."

Loki stood silent, shame evident in his posture. 

"You come to apologize for one lie and tell me another," Finnbar said sternly. "Though," he continued. "I suppose I am guilty of that too."

"Father?"

"Loki," Finnbar lamented. "There is something of the utmost importance which I must discuss with you. I truly shame myself for putting it off so long, but I-"

Loki tensed. "Am I not your son?"

Finnbar blinked. "Now why would you assume such a thing?"

The younger Aesir looked wary. "I look nothing like neither you nor mother. It was a natural conclusion to reach considering the gravity in which you are speaking... is that not the truth?" 

Finnbar hesitated; more than he should of considering the circumstance - but he couldn't help but take note of how he stood before Loki only scarcely a few inches taller despite the gap in years. It was a chilling and oddly personal reminder. "Not quite," he finally responded. Before Loki could speak, Finnbar gently moved to grasp the back of his son's neck and cut off any reply from the other with words of his own. "Loki, I beg you to know I love you dearly and nothing shall ever change that. You are my son. You always have been and will continue to be so. I had not wished for you to find out like this, but... You are not of Asgard." 

Loki's shoulders slumped in relief. "So I _am_ Vanir, then. The way you were speaking I thought it to be something truly terrible."

Finnbar winced. "It is not terrible and I shall not have you speak as such, but, nor are you of the Vanir. 

Loki's expression faltered. "No? Then what could I possibly be?" 

Finnbar's grip tightened. "You are of Joutnheim." 

None breathed; not a sound stirred. 

" _What?_ " Loki exhaled. 

"I found you the very last day of our campaign. You'd been left - likely in the haste to escape Utgard. Be it for pity or selfish desires I know not, but I took you back to Asgard with me; as my son. I have yet to regret it for even a moment."

Loki's breath turned shakey. "And - and how could that be? I look _nothing_ like a Jotun, how could-" 

"Heilari," Finnbar said. "She cast a glamour upon you. Tis been there since the days of your infancy." 

"So... So, she knows?"

"Yes."

"That is why you cursed her name?"

"Yes." 

Loki swallowed. "What is it I actually look like, then?"

Finnbar shook his head. "You have changed so much I would not know. We may speak to Heilari and find out if you truly wish." 

"I - no." Loki hesitated. "Not as of now. I'd rather like my skin to stay my own."

"I understand." 

None spoke for a moment. Loki looked contemplative but not overly distressed - no doubt he was turning his thoughts inward to think over the revelation he'd been posed with. Finnbar let him, standing by in preparation for the questions he doubtlessly knew would follow. 

"And what of my magic?" Loki finally asked. "What is its origin? If I am not Vanir then how... I'm..."

Finnbar could see the moment of realization wash over his son's expression. "Laufey's son," he explained. "Of royal blood. That is what we believe." 

"Does anyone else know?" Loki spoke quietly.

"Of your origins or parentage?" 

"Either."

Finnbar shook his head. "Yingvi is aware of your existence but not much more. Only Heilari and I know the true extent of your birth." 

Loki's voice wavered. "Not even mother?"

"No. I was fearful to tell her - you know how she can be."

The Jotun grew quiet. "Yes, I do." 

"I wish you'd told me she strikes you," Finnbar immediately said. "I would have spoken to her sooner and had it stopped. I love her dearly, but I do not approve of what she has done to you and I hope you know that." 

"I do," Loki said. "Though, I also understand why she acts the way she does. I can't imagine how much patience it must take to put up with me. Especially her assuming that I'm - what - a bastard son?"

" _No_ ," the Aesir stressed. "Never at any point have I told anyone that. She believes you to be the relinquished son of Astrid after Björn's death. You may not know this and in fact have no way to unless Heilari has gone against my wishes more than I am aware of, but near a century ago now she was deemed infertile. She understands that we took you in to avoid the scrutiny being an orphan would bring."

"I see." 

Finnbar frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what to do. He had hoped to stave off the day he revealed Loki's heritage for much later in his life; (perhaps forever - but deep down he knew such a thought was optimistic and foolish) when the boy was mature enough to properly cope with his feelings. The Aesir was not to be deceived by the outward guise of calm. He knew that, just below a carefully crafted facial expression, there was a storm of angry and perhaps loathful emotions swirling about - and he had to be careful with how he resolved them over the next few days. 

"Loki," Finnbar said quietly. "Now that you know the truth of your origins and the risks which come of it... should you truly wish, I will allow you to apprentice under the queen." 

Loki's head shot up, but he seemed to catch himself and his face became carefully guarded. "Do you truly mean your words or merely say them to appease me?" 

"To do such a thing would be cruel! I am most affronted you'd assume I would. You are terribly clever, Loki, I need not tell you that for you to know. Heilari has told me that there is a trace of her magic currently within you to hold the glamour in place. I have little doubt Queen Frigga is a gifted enough mage to sense the contrast."

Loki frowned. "She did not seem to take notice when I first met her." 

"Good," Finnbar said. "Let us keep it that way. I suggest you work a spell to make it indistinguishable."

"I know not what the glamour feels like, it has been with me all my life. Aunt Hel would have to visualize it for me herself." 

"Then we shall pay her a visit and have her do so," Finnbar said. "I have words for her while we are there."

~~~

When Frigga saw him again, the signature of unfamiliar magic was gone.

~~~

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all, folks! I truly thank you for getting this far. I'm deeply appreciative of anyone who could read so much of a fic they know to be unfinished. You're great. My deepest apologies for never completing this, either. The only reason I posted it at all was that I'm in love with the concept and writing and simply didn't want to throw it away. So thank you for indulging me. 
> 
> While I'm no longer in the Marvel fandom, I do post art for other fandoms on the regular, which you can find @Pilocene_ on Insta of you so wish. Stop by and say hello!


End file.
